


what did you sing to that lonely child

by celaenos



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: (mostly), Canon Compliant, Gen, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Luthor family dynamics, Mommy Issues, Mother-Daughter Relationship, minor references to Lena and Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-30 03:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celaenos/pseuds/celaenos
Summary: “Today was just our first test,” Rhea says, once Lena pulls out her tablet and starts hitting at the screen with a bit more force than is necessary. “You can’t expect it to work on the first attempt.”Lillian would.[Lena's pov from 2x20 through 2x22]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, no clue what this is. all i know is that i have too many feelings about lena, and too many feelings about mothers. so.

  _Oh, the devil's inside_  
_You opened the door_  
_You gave him a ride_  
_Too young to know, too old to admit_  
_That you couldn't see how it ends_

 

 

She wonders what her mother would say, if she were to walk into this room right now.

Something biting. There would be a comment about Lex within the first two minutes of the conversation. Lena would love to see what Lillian’s face would do when she found out that Rhea is an alien. God, would she pull a gun herself? Order someone else to? Claw at Lena and dismiss her further? Or, _god,_ would this finally be the thing that brings out something protective in Lillian? Would she scream _not my daughter?_ Would she act like a mother, for once.

Maybe she wouldn’t care at all.

Lena shoves the keyboard away from her in a huff, furious that she’s even wasting her time thinking about Lillian when she still hasn’t managed to get this portal working. Rhea’s not here. Lena isn’t sure where exactly she goes, or where she lives; she hasn’t worked up the courage to ask her if there is a spaceship hovering invisibly somewhere out there yet. She’ll get too excited and scare Rhea off for good. Lena swallows, remembering how excited she was about her seventh grade science project, how after ten minutes of babbling Lillian had cut her off curtly and gone off to call Lex.

She let _him_ babble about his work all he wanted. More than she should have let him, clearly.

Lena sighs and reaches for her phone. She’s not getting anywhere right now, and if she learned anything from watching Lex spiral, taking a break is just as important as throwing all of your energy into your project. Plus, she _has_ cancelled on Kara three times in the last two weeks. Lena misses seeing her in person, it always serves to improve her mood. She dials and grabs her purse, walking out of the lab and grinning, ridiculously, at the sound of Kara’s voice.

…

…

NSync, of all things proves to be a wonderful midday distraction. Lena is slouching, and Kara is laughing, and the food is delicious. She can’t really believe this, that it’s so easy to just… pick up conversations where they’ve left off, a few days or weeks later

Kara and Lena cancel on each other nearly as much as they meet, which is a novelty that Lena finds herself enamored with. For once, it’s not just Lena cancelling on everyone in her life until they slowly but surely disappear from it. Kara abandons her over dessert to follow a lead on a story, and Lena leaves her forty-nine minutes into the new Star Wars film when she gets a call about a successful test in the labs, and neither one of them is angry, after. They just reschedule, and pick up right where they left off, every time. Lena's not used to this level of balance. She doesn't know how to navigate in waters this easy, it’s never happened before and she feels thrilled and rudderless each new time that it happens.

Lena remembers the article on Britney Spears that got them on to this conversation topic in the first place, and asks Kara if she would rather have Britney and JT back together, or NSync, delighted by the smile and groan that she receives in return.

“So what’s keeping you so busy?” Kara asks a few minutes later.

Lena’s enjoying the casual, slightly flirty afternoon, so she rolls with it. “Top secret,” she teases, and gets it given right back to her when Kara makes a face and pointedly smirks back. “I’m working with a new partner,” Lena admits, and she cannot believe how giddy she becomes talking about it. “She’s amazing. It’s… kind of like having a mentor,” she adds, knowing from what Kara has told her about Cat Grant that she’ll probably understand. “You’ll love her, I promise.”

“Oh come on, you’ve got to give me _something,_ ” Kara pleads.

Lena, as always, can’t really resist well in the face of Kara. It’s become something of a problem. “What do you know about quantum entanglement?” she asks.

Kara makes an adorable face. “Quantum what?”

“Polyatomic anions?”

Kara’s makes a face far more adorable than Lena ever could have imagined, and she laughs. “Well, when you see what we’re doing with them it will blow you away.”

“Well, I can’t wait,” Kara says, like she means it. Like she’s proud and actually wants to hear about what has got Lena so excited.

Her phone rings, interrupting, and Lena finds that she isn’t even annoyed by the interruption once she sees that it’s Rhea calling. “Actually, this is her,” she rises. “I’ve got to go. We’re doing our first test today.”

Kara jumps up and opens her arms with a smile, and Lena folds herself into them. Nodding when Kara tries to tell her that she’ll pay for the next lunch with no real intentions of letting her do so. She grins, feeling refreshed and excited to get back to work.

Kara’s effect on her is both profound, and overwhelming. (Not to mention _terrifying,_ sometimes _._ ) For now, she lets the calm wash over her, lets the excitement flood her bones as she runs back to L-Corp to meet Rhea.

She can worry about her _not quite friendship_ feelings after she’s saved the world. If nothing else, it’ll make her seem like a more worthwhile partner for Kara to take a chance on.

…

…

The test fails, and when it sputters, sparks flying everywhere, it takes Lena’s good mood along with it. She thinks about being so frustrated that she explodes with it, nowhere else to go once she’s coiled herself so tight.

(Ice cream shoved into Lex’s nose; the scar on her ankle, from kicking her dormitory bed in tenth grade; her favorite coffee mug, shattering against a linoleum floor.

A microscope nearly colliding with Jack’s head.)

Lena breathes out an angry sigh and clenches her fists together tightly, flinching when a gentle hand rests on top of her shoulder. “We need to get some food into you,” Rhea says. “Let’s take a break. Re-group later.”

Before Lena can protest, Rhea has looped their arms together and starts leading them up and out of the labs. She doesn’t look disappointed, or angry that Lena’s failed, or that she’s having trouble keeping herself in control. She just smiles, almost regally leading them inside of a restaurant, and lets Lena rant and rant and rant until she feels like she can breathe without wanting to break something again.

“Today was just our first test,” Rhea says, once Lena pulls out her tablet and starts hitting at the screen with a bit more force than is necessary. “You can’t expect it to work on the first attempt.”

 _Lillian would._ Lena bites at her lip.

“I triple checked my calculations on this,” Lena says, setting the tablet aside. “If I can’t make this work, then we won’t be able to power the portal we’re building. This was supposed to revolutionize the way that things are transported! Eliminate famine! The need for fossil fuels!” she sinks back with the weight of it all, dejected. “I wanted to help my planet. To get you home to yours.”

“And you will,” Rhea says, like it’s inevitable. Like she’s not angry that Lena can’t figure out how to do it yet. “You’re making scientific advancements that most people on Earth couldn’t even dream of. No one said it would be easy.”

It feels impossible. Which, Lena believes in the impossible sure, but she's not sure how much of the impossible she believes in anymore. “What if I can’t get it to work?” she asks, her voice going quiet.

God, she feels young all of the sudden. Sitting in this restaurant opposite Rhea, she’s suddenly flashed back to being fourteen, sinking further and further down into her chair as Lillian sips at her wine and goes over Lena’s latest report card. _We allowed you to go away to school, I expected better results from you than this, darling._

Darling. Always tacked on after an admonishment. Or in public. Always after Lena is already so miserable that she’ll take any small reprieve that she can get.

“What if I can’t get you home?” she adds. Because ultimately, that’s what Rhea is doing here—with her. Lena is a means to an end. She has the tools and the equipment that Rhea needs, but if Lena can’t figure it out, Rhea will probably end up going to someone else who can.

She’s already growing used to sharing her meals with someone again. She can’t lie down on the floor and give in to the sheer weight of Jack’s death if Rhea’s there, talking about a project that Jack would be proud of, that would _mean something_.

“I have confidence in you Lena,” Rhea smiles before rising out of her seat. “I am going back to the test facility to check on the progress of the portal.” She walks around the table, standing before Lena, smiling down at her. “I know you don’t believe it yet, but you are going to make this work,” she reaches out and cups Lena’s chin, and Lena _sinks_ into her hand, unable to help herself as she smiles softly back up at Rhea.

Rhea waits until Lena nods, and only then does she turn and walk away.

Lena sits there on her own for a few minutes after Rhea leaves and doesn’t know what to think. The thing that she _really_ should be thinking about right now is saving the world, but the thing that runs over and over again inside of her brain aren’t her calculations, they’re Rhea’s words. They linger, as Lena gathers up her things, hails a cab, and walks up to her apartment.

She changes into an old t-shirt and a pair of leggings, washes her face of makeup, brushes her teeth and climbs into bed with her tablet. She toys with a few calculations, her mind not really processing them as she feels the lingering feeling from the warmth of Rhea’s hand on her chin.

Perhaps because it’s still so soon after Jack’s death, perhaps because the media—CatCo aside—will not let up with the comparisons to Lena and Lillian, now that she’s escaped, or perhaps because since coming to National City, since meeting Kara and opening herself up more, Lena just… can’t help but feel everything far too much than she’d like to, right now.

She tries to focus on her calculations, but somewhere at the back of her head like a tune in endless repeat that she just can’t place, that doesn’t leave space for preciseness, for planning, for anything but relentless obsession: the plain truth is, she doesn’t want Rhea to leave. It’s something that she has no idea how to deal with, now that she’s acknowledged it. It’s impossibly selfish, for one. Rhea is trapped. She’s stuck on Earth with no way to get back home to her family, to her life, to everything that she’s ever known. It’s not fair for Lena to want Rhea to stay just so that she feels a little less alone, herself.

Maybe she is fucking up on purpose. Or, well, not _on purpose,_ but subconsciously somehow. Maybe her brain isn’t making the right connections because on some level, she wants to drag this out as long as she can.

 _God,_ what a horrible thought. If Jack were alive—

Well.

…

…

It doesn’t work, again.

This time, Lena doesn’t keep herself controlled. Her frustrations bubble up and she throws the tablet down hard on top of a table. It’s easily one of the smallest temper tantrums that she’s ever had, but she feels impossibly childish as Rhea catches her at it.

“Not working yet?”

“Was it me throwing that down in disgust or the sparks that gave it away?” Lena asks, turning and glaring back up at the portal, like it’s personally offended her by not working correctly. Well, it _has._

Rhea dismisses the assistants in the room, turning and giving Lena a pointed look as she reaches her arm out. “Failure is a part of the process Lena. I told you that this was going to take time.”

“It’s not about time, I’m just not _getting_ it,” she insists, crossing her arms and letting out a bitter laugh. “Maybe we should head over to Striker Island and get Lex Luthor to come in and save the day.”

“You think _he_ could get this working?”

“Lex was the genius who was supposed to save the world,” she snarks. “I just thought…” she drops her arms, pressing her palms together as she hangs her head. “I thought if I could make this work then I could prove to everyone… to my mother,” she admits, catching Rhea’s eye. “That I was just as good as the golden boy,” she scuffs her foot against the floor, looking down and swallowing back tears before she can force herself to meet Rhea’s eye again. “I guess I mostly just wanted to prove it to myself.”

“You don’t have to prove anything. You’re smarter than Lex.”

Lena laughs. No one, _ever_ , has said those words.

“No, I’m not saying that to make you feel better,” Rhea adds. “I’m saying it as a scientist who knows,” she turns away from Lena, looking at the portal with narrowed eyes before she reaches over and grabs hold of Lena’s hands. “But you need to stop thinking like your brother. From what you’ve told me, he’s a man consumed with power.”

_That’s one way to put it._

“And that’s how you’ve been trying to fix this, you give it more power, you think it will work. But you’re not a person who’s consumed with power, are you?” she smiles when Lena nearly rolls her eyes. “So, if you weren’t trying to do what Lex would do… what would _you_ do?”

Lena thinks about it, turning back and looking at the portal. “I guess I’d… try to find a way to increase the anion input without overloading the energy output… all while… maintaining the elements synthesis rate at the constant.”

“So, not power,” Rhea says, a proud smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Balance.”   

Lena _beams_ and whips back around to the computer. Her fingers can’t type fast enough to keep up with the calculations in her brain as she makes the adjustments, and Rhea laughs and rests a palm on Lena’s back.

“Breathe, dear.”

Lena nods, and _god_ it’s impossible how young she feels underneath Rhea’s proud gaze. Young and disproportionately hopeful. Like she wants all Rhea’s attention. All of her emotions too raw and exaggerated again, like she’s a teenager. Like she'll die if Rhea doesn't look over at her with that smile again in the next sixty seconds.

_Jesus, she needs to get herself together._

Rhea waits patiently while Lena makes the adjustments, and when Lena sucks in a breath and straightens up, grabbing the tablet and tweaking the last bit of the controls, her whole body thrums anxiously. “Here goes nothing,” Lena breathes, and prays that it works this time.

The machine hums, slowly coming to life as it has each time. But, unlike the last few times they’ve tried, it doesn’t heat up too quickly. It doesn’t spark and sputter out, as useless as Lena feels.

This time, _it works._

Lena stares and releases the breath that she had been holding with a gasp. She thinks of infinite relative velocities, thinks of the breakdown of singularity. She stares up at the thing _that she created_ and thinks of the sheer impossibility of it all. Thinks of the sheer possibilities that it contains inside of itself now. ( _We can end famine. End global warming. Eradicate the spread of disease. Space travel.)_ Lena thinks of endless debates with classmates in undergrad, of even more, in Jack’s garage after grad school. She thinks of the first time that she ever picked up an H. G. Wells novel, of the day she learned about the existence of aliens, of the day that Lex explained the relativity equation to her, their legs dangling together over a pier, and the look on his face when he told her that it contained the infinite.

The wonder grows inside of her, till it’s too big to hold in and she thinks maybe that she might fall over from it. “We did it,” she whispers, in awe.

“ _You_ did it,” Rhea says, smiling proudly at her, and Lena feels the satisfaction in her _toes._

She did it. She’s actually going to save the world.

She pictures the shock of surprise on her mother’s face, the mixture of pride and envy on Lex’s, and when she turns and meets Rhea’s unabashed pride instead, given freely, something loosens inside of her. Something monumental.

…

…

They’re not _done_ by any means. There are still more tweaks to be made; one success is just one success. They’ve got to try it a few more times, work out all of the kinks, but, _still._

Now, comes the fun part.

Mostly.

Lena turns away from her computer, to ask Rhea a question, and sees her hanging up from a call. She frowns. “Was that my phone?”

“Yeah,” Rhea sighs and sets it down on the table, rolling her eyes. “Telemarketer.”

It sounds like the truth when she says it, but, something odd hums in the back of Lena’s brain, anyway.

…

…

Rhea’s standing alone, staring at the portal with a far off look on her face. Lena walks up to her, fidgeting with her hands and feeling ridiculous.

“Tomorrow we can begin the material trials,” she says. Rhea doesn’t look at her. “I keep forgetting that success means you’re leaving.” _Bald faced lie._ It’s all she can think about now. “Working with you has meant so much to me,” she admits, because it has to be obvious to her, now, and there were so many things she never got to say to Lex. To Jack. Hell, even to Lillian, when it came down to it. She’s a bit sick of people leaving her without warning.

“Me too,” Rhea says, finally turning to look at her. Lena almost sags with relief, knowing that she’s not alone in this, that it’s not all in her head. That she’s not just… latching on to people because they’re _there._ “Whatever happens next, I want you to remember never to doubt yourself again. You are a _marvel_ Lena. Any mother should be proud to call you daughter.”

 _Fuck._  

Before Lena can say anything, Rhea turns up the controls on the portal. “Wait… what are you doing?” she asks. Rhea ignores her, pushing the portal beyond its limits and Lena runs over to one of the computers. “What did you do?” she asks, when none of her commands work anymore.

“What I had to, for my people.”

And it’s just—it’s like a train wreck, the realization, like her ribs caving into themselves, because she is so. fucking. stupid. Rhea walks over to her, as the feeling of dread inside of Lena grows. Her tone is cutting. There's no amusement. No panic either. Or, Lena just can't read her well enough yet, when Rhea isn't allowing her to.

“I want you to know, the affection I have for you is real.”

Lena doesn’t get a chance to tell Rhea to go fuck herself, because—as is becoming a common thread in her life—Supergirl comes crashing into the room, the Martian, and another man beside her.

“Turn it off,” she says. And even through all of the other emotions that she is feeling right now, there’s some comfort, in the way that Supergirl looks to her, like Lena is on her side. Like that isn’t in doubt.

“I can’t,” Lena explains. “She must have made it self-sustaining somehow.”

“What have you done mother?” the man who looks vaguely familiar somehow snaps. And _oh,_ this is Rhea’s son. This is… god, she feels sick. “You’re bringing something here,” he accuses.

From across the room, Supergirl attacks, throwing herself at Rhea and slamming her into the wall. Lena flinches at the impact, trying to step out of the way. She feels her hand reaching out, towards Supergirl, or Rhea, she has no idea. Both, maybe. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because now debris is flying everywhere, and two impossibly strong alien women are viciously trying to get the upper hand on each other, and _god,_ Lena just wanted to help make the world a better place. She wanted to believe that _for once_ someone actually cared about her like they said they did, with no pretense or agenda behind it.

Part of the wall crashes, and it slams into Lena, and then everything goes black. But, for a second, just before she can’t feel anything anymore, she looks over at Rhea and thinks _of course._ The look on her face is so reminiscent of Lillian that for a second, Lena can’t breathe.

 _God, she should have known._ She should have known better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well.... i had more feelings. it's not exactly what i wanted it to be but, i should really be working on my wips, so, i'm not playing around with it anymore.

Lena wakes slowly to the feeling of someone’s fingers brushing gently through her hair. It’s lovely—for about two seconds until she opens her eyes and sees that it’s Rhea.

_Fuck._

Lena jerks up, pulling away from Rhea, as she tries to piece together what’s happening. The last thing that she can remember is Supergirl and Rhea fighting down in L-Corp’s labs, and _now_ —

She’s in a random bed. In different clothes. “Where the hell am I?” she demands, furious at the shaky tone to her voice.

“I’ve been taking care of you,” Rhea says, not technically answering her question. “Ever since Supergirl nearly killed you when she attacked our portal.”

Lena whips her head around. “Supergirl tried to stop you,” she snaps. Her teeth grind together and she feels sick as she remembers the portal opening, and her own hand in that. “ _I_ should have stopped you.”

She cannot believe that she was so stupid, so trusting. So much for saving the world; she is going to be responsible for helping to bring about its destruction instead.

“You lied to me. You _used_ me,” she accuses.

“I did what I had to, for my people,” Rhea’s face goes soft, just for a minute. “But I did it for you too.”

Lena flinches away from her words. That’s exactly what Lex had said.

“I meant what I said on the ground,” Rhea continues. “You _are_ a marvel,” she sits up and walks away from the bed, and all Lena can hear right now is _on the ground._ Her hands shake. “You are meant for bigger things. Better things!” Rhea points out the window. “This is a planet of wasted potential, and _you_ , represent the best of your race.” Lena scoots off of the bed, gaping as she walks closer to the window. “I am going to make a society worthy of you,” Rhea promises, she steps over and pulls Lena close, her hands resting on both of Lena shoulders. And, part of Lena thinks: _run,_ but most of her is just in shock. Pliable almost, as Rhea tugs her over and holds her close and Lena gapes down at her world.

She’s on a spaceship.

“You are where you belong, beside me, presiding over this new world that we will create. Together.”

When Lena looks down, all she can see is chaos.

…

…

Rhea leaves her alone in the room, and no amount of pulling, kicking, or looking around for anything she might be able to fashion into an explosive seems to do any damage to the door.

So, she’s _stuck_ on a spaceship.

Lena paces for a while, alternating between looking out the window and trying to make some sort of sense of what is going on, and trying to see what around her could be of any use to try and escape. From the sound of things, Rhea’s plan seems to be simple old fashioned world domination, every bit as villainous and a caricature from movies as Lena’s family seems to think an alien invasion would go.

Which, on top of everything else, is more than a little annoying. Somewhere down in that mass of chaos, Lillian is smirking and saying ‘ _I told you so’,_ to anyone that will listen. Lex is probably raging in his cell, laughing while everyone around him panics.

Lena tries not to think about the fact that someone—probably Rhea—changed her out of her own clothes. The dress fits perfectly, but the fabric bothers her. It’s heavier than it looks. Lena considers ripping it and using the extra material for… something when she hears footsteps coming from the hall. Rhea’s not giving her much time alone, then.

Lena stands on top of the bed in a crouch that feels ridiculous. Ready to jump the guard who comes to her room, because, at this point, surprise is all that she really has going for her—but she doesn’t get very far. He yelps and she manages to get a hit or two in, but he overpowers her in a few seconds. The scratches displayed on his face bring Lena a bit of satisfaction anyway, even as she’s led out of the room and greeted by Rhea’s son.

Rhea’s son, who looks an awful lot like Kara’s boyfriend, Mike.

He awkwardly introduces himself as Mon-El, makes no mention of Kara, and starts talking about arranged marriage.

All thoughts of interrogating him about Kara and Supergirl fly out of Lena’s head with the mention of _that._ He looks about as unhappy with all of this as Lena feels, but he walks through the halls of this spaceship like he belongs. Lena is wary and watchful, clocking each new turn and trying to find a way out, but Mon-El walks like he knows exactly where he’s going. The guards follow him, not the other way around.

“Ah, my son,” Rhea’s voice rings out as they walk into what must be the main room of the ship. “The prince, and his beautiful, brilliant bride to be.”

Lena gives her a disgusted frown in return.

Mon-El argues with his mother and gets exactly nowhere. And at the mention of an heir, Lena is done standing silently while she figures out a plan. “Did you not hear us?” she snaps back. “We are _not_ getting married, and we are _certainly_ not giving you an heir.” The thought makes her skin crawl, and she knows that it shows on her face.

“She doesn’t need _us_ for anything,” Mon-El sighs. “She just needs our genetic materials. Daxamites can generate a child using just locks of hair.”

“Which I collected while you slept,” Rhea says happily.

Something inside of Lena’s brain short-circuits. This is a whole separate level of violation than the fact that she’s been put into different clothes. A child. _Her child._ Without her permission. A slow chill creeps over her.

“Hope for the best but prepare for the worst,” Rhea chirps.

“You are insane if you think I’m going through this pageant for you,” Lena says, as firm and calmly as she can manage right now.

“Yes, you’ve made your feelings for me abundantly clear Lena,” she says, actually sounding the smallest bit hurt. Lena almost scoffs at her, what the hell did she expect? “I don’t expect you to do it for me, but there are people that you _do_ care for.”

Lena freezes, there’s only one person left that comes to mind as Rhea sashays over and hits a few buttons on a screen, and a familiar image pops up. Not the one that she was thinking of.

“Wait…” Lena walks closer, a sinking feeling growing slowly in her gut. “What is that?”

“The Luthor Family Children’s Hospital,” Rhea smirks. “It’s what I’ve always admired about you Lena. You use your money and power for more than just living lavishly. You _care._ About the… little people.”

She turns back around and glares at Lena, any hint of maternal warmth gone. Lena wants to flinch away from her. To run away and cry at the unfairness of it all. She does neither. Something tight and suffocating settles in Lena’s throat, and she balls her hands into fists and stares at the screen.

“You two _will_ get married. And after that you can spend the rest of your days rotting in a cell for all I care. The question is, will you agree to the ceremony now, or only after I’ve murdered thousands of lives in the city below,” she turns and almost sighs at the screen, like it truly couldn’t matter less either way. When she turns back and locks eyes with Lena, everything about her is a threat. “After all, the Luthor Children’s Hospital isn’t the only hospital in town.”

She means it. Lena’s cheeks burn as she swallows and takes a final look at the image projected behind Rhea. She can hear how tight her voice gets, choked in the middle of her throat like a gloved hand. “Fine,” she croaks, sealing her fate.

Lena stops listening as Mon-El agrees and Rhea claps her hands with manic delight. They’re doing this _now,_ no time to back out or come up with some sort of plan. Lena is shuffled off by guards back to the same room she’d woken in a few hours ago. Handmaids flit in and out with clothes and makeup and a goddamn _tiara,_ and Lena shoves their hands away when they move to help her with the dress. She’s already had enough of her privacy violated today.

Lena closes herself up in the bathroom and rips the black dress over her head with no care at all. The noise she hears at the tear of fabric brings a smirk to her lips, and she chucks it onto the floor.

Her hands shake as she tugs the red dress on. Apparently white weddings aren’t a thing on Daxam. Neither it appears, is modesty; her breasts are barely contained until she figures out how the stringy part of the dress holds itself up. Like the black dress before it, this one fits her frame perfectly. Lena tries not to think about it.

When she walks back into the room, two women push her down into a chair and start doing her makeup and hair. Lena closes her eyes, refusing to look at herself in the mirror and wonders if she can convince Mon-El to do something. Rhea called herself the Regent. If Daxam is anything like monarchies on Earth, Regents are only until the rightful ruler comes of age. Mon-El is certainly old enough to take over as King. Even if she’s wrong, and this is a matriarchal society, there has to be _some_ people who would follow him over her. Even if it leads to a fight up here, it’s worth _trying_ isn’t it? They all seem to have Supergirl’s strength, it’s not as if Mon-El could get gravely hurt.

Though, Lena knows a thing or two about how difficult going against your mother is, and she presses her palms against the top of her thighs as one of the women places the tiara on top of her head. Mon-El isn’t going to do anything. No one is coming to save them. This is happening.

Lena walks slowly at first, her head held high, glaring at the guard who tries to take her hand. If she has to do this, she’s not doing it shaking and afraid.  

Rhea stands above them, not a single hair out of place or a winkle to her dress. Lena grits her teeth and takes Mon-El’s hand when ordered, barely touching him as she glares up at Rhea.

She is going for full pomp and circumstance, prattling on about finding your star while Lena tries to focus very hard on breathing and remaining upright. Mon-El’s increasingly sweaty hand isn’t doing her any favors.

But, before Rhea can finish, Cat Grant’s face, of all peoples’, appears on a screen and interrupts the ceremony. Lena has always admired her, (Lillian, has always hated her) but Lena has never liked her more than in this single moment as Rhea stomps around, furious and ordering her death. Lena can’t help smirking as Rhea’s voice becomes less controlled.

Wedding’s off it seems, at least for now.

Rhea orders a guard to lead them back to their chambers, and finally, Mon-El does something useful and tries to order him to stand down. It’s the first time that Lena has seen him do anything other than argue with his mother half-heartedly.

It doesn’t work, but Lena has absolutely no intentions of being locked back up to wait until Rhea drags them back out to be married. She is getting off of this ship. She’ll find Supergirl, Kara’s sister, _someone_ , who will help protect the hospital and help her stop Rhea. While Mon-El fights with the guard, Lena walks past them and picks up the fallen gun, shooting the guard and walking back down the hall, Mon-El following behind.

“This way,” he says pointing Lena in the right direction. “Damn, it’s locked.”

Lena frowns, taking one look at the lock then says, “Break that.”

Mon-El’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and Lena sighs. “That?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, dryly.

He shrugs, and smashes his elbow into the glass. Lena yanks the insipid tiara off her head and twists it into the mainframe, she grins with delight as it whirls to life, and reaches in to mess with the wires, beaming as the door opens.

“I can see why Kara loves you,” he says, staring at the lock.

 _Kara?_ Lena blinks up at him, still on a bit of a high from that working. “Likewise,” she says, almost without thinking. Like when you pay for a ticket at a movie theater, and the person behind the glass says, _‘enjoy the show’_ and you accidentally reply, _‘you too’._

The door opens, and three guards stand in their way, but before Lena can raise the stolen gun, they all drop to the ground and Supergirl appears behind them. Lena grins, a sigh of relief hitting her, even as she smiles at them and says something as ridiculous as, _‘Kara Danvers sent me to get you’._ Lena doesn’t have time to roll her eyes or question her about that, because standing directly behind Supergirl, is her mother.

Lena pushes past Mon-El and Supergirl and stares up at Lillian in awe. “You came,” she breathes. “With _her?_ ”

“I did,” Lillian says, smiling in what looks like genuine relief to see that Lena is safe. It’s different than the pride displayed there months ago when she thought that Lena was on her side. It’s different than the fixed smiles she gives Lena when they’re in public. Different even from the few private looks inside of the Luthor Manner when Lena was little, an occasional glimpse of something she could have had, always, if she were more like Lex.

Lena wants to step closer and fold herself into her mother’s arms, but they’re not safe yet. Lillian reaches over and grips Lena’s arm gently, squeezing and tugging her along, and Lena runs down the hall after her mother. She blinks and then they are immediately transported into a frozen room. When she turns around, Supergirl is nowhere to be found.

The truth sits sour and heavy on her tongue, but she asks anyway, desperate to be wrong _for once._ “What did you do Mother?”

“Humans only dear,” Lillian says, and _of course._ Lena watches in horror as Lillian calls Agent Danvers—Kara’s sister—and tells her that she has the all clear to fire.

“Turn it back on Mother,” Lena demands. This can’t happen again, not when Lillian smiled at her like that only minutes ago. It’s not _fair._

“I came for _you,_ ” Lillian says, “not them.”

Lena stands directly in front of her mother, looking up at her and pleading. “Supergirl helped you. How could you betray her?”

Lillian scoffs. “I put everything on the line to save you from them. Supergirl and Mon-El are still aliens and they’ll die with their own kind.”

Lena pictures Supergirl dying and blinks back a wave of tears that she doesn’t have the time to indulge in right now. She has to _stop it._

“I thought you’d finally seen my side, but your stubborn pride still blinds you to the truth.” Lillian sighs, and the familiar old disappointment is back. Nothing has changed. Lillian having genuine care for her wellbeing doesn’t matter if this is what she is going to do with it. Same as with Lex.

Before Lena can say anything back, the machine whirls to life, turning itself back on. And when Lillian walks back over towards her pet cyborg, he reaches out and strangles her. Even with everything, Lena panics at the sight, jerking forward and reaching for her mother. There's a hard crack, sudden and fast, her fist meeting the side of his face that doesn’t have metal attached before she ever really gets the chance to think about it. All it does is make her fist scream out with agony.

The portal reopens and Mon-El appears. Alone.

Lena sees Hank release Lillian out of the corner of her eye. The both of them gasp for breath, and relief floods Lena. This day has been horrible enough, watching her mother die in front of her isn’t something that Lena thinks she could survive right now.

She steps towards Mon-El. “Where’s Supergirl?” she demands.

“Not coming.” Mon-El says, and all the relief that Lena just felt disappears as he grabs Lillian’s fallen comm. “Alex!? Alex it’s Mon-El. Lena and I are fine, Lillian’s device worked. But Supergirl stayed up there. Alex do you read me? Supergirl is still on the ship!”

Lena chokes on a sputter of deranged laughter. Alex’s voice crackles through the radio, but it’s too distorted to make out. _It's not your fault_ , Lena thinks fiercely, so hard that tears prickle her eyes. It's not your fault that Rhea did this, that Supergirl is like this; selfless to the point of her destruction. Nothing that you did made Lillian do this to you, made her leave them up there to die. But there's still that part of her that's very quiet, and very small, and very persistent that says—but there must have been something you did to deserve this.

Her entire world narrows down to this moment, this freezing chasm, and her mother gasping for breath, wheezing in agony, but Lena can't hear it, there's no sound outside of the blood rushing in her ears. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was definitely only ever supposed to be a one shot, but more sad mom lena feelings happened with each new episode. so. it is 100% not having another chapter added onto it after this one. i am kicking my butt right back over to my wips. i tried to keep it mostly canon compliant with the episodes, except i added on a bit of lena and winn friendship and kara/lena to the end of this one. bc, well. there needs to be:)
> 
> (also, it's dumb that she doesn't, bc it just makes her seem stupid, but i'm convinced the show is playing it that lena does not know abt supergirl, so that's how it plays out here.)

She doesn’t remember leaving the Fortress.

Well, that’s not right—it’s just that it’s a blur; she can hear her mother wheezing, but tugging Lena’s arms towards her anyway. Hank is still jerking like he’s going to attack someone, but has his fists clenched so tightly that Lena thinks she sees hints of blood on his palms. Alex’s voice crackles through the comm again, and Mon-El runs outside.

Lena is shivering as she follows, and she only starts shivering even more once they’re out in the wind. Lillian pushes past Mon-El, and Hank climbs into the pilot’s seat of a chopper. Lena hesitates, remembering the last time she was in a chopper—the first time that she met Supergirl.

“Lena,” her mother snaps, fear in her voice.

Lena climbs in. Mon-El right behind her, even as Lillian is glaring at him like she might push him out the first chance that she gets. Mon-El says something about a bomb exploding, or not working, and Lena’s teeth start knocking together. She doesn’t remember it happening, but Lillian must have dug around and found a blanket to drape over her, because by the time that she wakes back up, they’re landing down in National City, she’s covered, and she’s not shaking anymore.

Her mother does sort of push Mon-El out of the chopper. He turns around and glares once he’s caught himself, and Lena almost calls out for him to wait, but by the time she’s thrown the blanket off and managed to climb down, he’s gone.

Not even a full hour ago, she was about to be forced into marrying him.

The ground shakes, and Lena nearly trips on the edge of the stupid red dress. Lillian ducks from behind her as an explosion rings out. When Lena turns and looks, something familiar goes flying by and the relief that floods her is extraordinary, even as she hears her mother curse underneath her breath.

Another explosion rings out, and this time Hank runs up to Lillian. Her mother reaches for her, but Lena pulls away. She’s close enough to L-Corp to walk, and she cannot be in this dress for another minute. Lillian continues calling for her as Lena walks away, but she doesn’t follow.

…

…

L-Corp is deathly silent. It’s strange to be walking into a deserted corporate building, but Lena takes the elevator up to her office on auto pilot, tugging at the zippers of the dress the whole way. When she walks into her office, the dress has pooled to her feet, and she simply kicks it away without thought, not caring where it lands.

The shoes go next, somewhere underneath her desk, and Lena walks the length of her office in nothing but her underwear and pours herself a drink.

Water, first. An entire glass, because her head is pounding and she can’t remember the last time that she drank or ate anything. Presumably that was going to happen after the wedding ceremony.

A manic giggle escapes her and she clamps a hand over her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she reaches for the scotch and knocks back a shot of it, swallowing hard and shaking her head.

She’s still cold.

Goosebumps rise on her forearms, and she stares down at her body for a moment. _She doesn’t need us for anything. She just needs our genetic materials. Daxamites can generate a child using just locks of hair._ Lena tugs at her hair, losing its curl now. She flips strands around and inspects them in the mirror, checking to see if anything looks suddenly uneven. She can’t find anything obviously out of place, but she doubts that it’s something that Rhea would lie about.

She vomits into the wastebasket.

 _Clothes._ Put on some clothes. Lena wipes at her mouth, swishing with water before walking over to a spare set of drawers she keeps… well, not for occasions such as _this._ The aftermath of an interrupted forced marriage and world domination plot was _not_ something she ever truly imagined needing an extra set of clothes for. Staying late and changing for a business meeting, was a bit more of what she’d had in mind.

Either way, it’s useful now. Lena finds a pair of skintight black trousers and a loose blouse and tugs them on. She pulls out a new pair of heels, but holds them in her hands, padding barefoot on the carpet back over towards the bar.

She brings the shoes and the scotch over to the couch and sags down into it. The silence of the room is almost deafening, so she reaches for the remote and turns on the news. It’s early enough in the morning that reports of last night are still coming in, and Lena—a bit sleep deprived now—struggles to focus on anything.

Supergirl was very publically fighting her cousin last night, which must have been the blur that Lena saw when they got out of the chopper. CatCo reports something about mind control. Something about kryptonite. Too many things about deaths, and Lena shuts the television back off and puts on her shoes.

She stares at the chessboard on the table in front of her. Closes her eyes and pictures Rhea’s smiling proud face as the portal whirled to life the first time. Hears, _you are a marvel, Lena,_ and _but I did it for you, too,_ and wants to scream. She looks down at the floor and sees where the dress landed, in a heap on the floor. She can feel Mon-El’s sweaty hand clasped in hers. Her almost husband. _Kara’s boyfriend._ Instead of screaming, she whacks at the chess pieces and clenches her fist around the empty glass in her other hand.

“That chessboard has been in the Luthor family for generations,” Lillian scolds, stepping into the open doorframe. Lena hadn’t heard anyone come up. That’s probably not a good sign. She should be more on alert. It is an alien invasion, after all.

“Did you come here to yell at me for not treating the family heirlooms with respect, or to blame me for what’s happening outside?” she snaps, rising from the couch and moving to refill her drink.

And of course, her mother is put right back together. Nothing about _her_ is visibly shaken about the events of last night. Calm and collected in the face of _everything._  

“How could you let that woman deceive you?” she demands. “I taught you to be a scientist. To question everything.”

Lena scoffs with disbelief, turning around. “No, what you taught me was to doubt myself. To look for validation elsewhere,” she can hear the hurt in her voice, and practically runs back and flops down onto the couch, as petulant as when she was a teenager. “So much so that I was willing to take it from the first mentor that offered it to me.”

 _You are a marvel, Lena._ She grits her teeth and tucks her legs up beneath her and does not look over at her mother’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Lillian says, and Lena laughs bitterly. “I _am_ Lena,” Lillian insists, moving to sit down beside her. Lena keeps her gaze focused somewhere out the window. “When you came to visit me in jail, I honestly wanted to be a better mother to you. But every time that I’ve had the opportunity to choose you over something else…” she pauses, and swallows. Lena does not look at her. “I’ve chosen something else.”

“Well, congratulations on saying the first honest thing in your life,” Lena says archly, and takes a drink.

“I haven’t justified the worst behavior for the best of causes, but I was right.” Lillian reaches over and fixes the pieces on the chessboard, one by one. “The threat was real,” she turns back and looks at Lena with something like a smirk playing at her lips. “But maybe I backed the wrong child to stop it.”

Lena turns towards her slowly, unable to help herself as her mother lights up with excitement. She’s seen this face before; it’s the same one that she would get while brainstorming a new project with Lex. It feels very odd, to have it directed at Lena now.

“The transmit portal you created, that was _brilliant_ Lena.”

Lena cannot remember the last time, or if _ever_ her mother has called her brilliant. She watches as Lillian bends down and pulls something out of her purse, almost reverently. Lena sucks in a breath when she recognizes it. “Is that from Lex’s vault?” she asks, both horrified and intrigued.

“He created it to get rid of Superman.”

Lena swallows thickly, imagining the implications of that. “Does it work?”

“You’d need to adapt it,” Lillian sets it down onto the table beside the chessboard. “But if you could, _you_ would be the Luthor who saved the world.”

She’s not altogether proud, but the idea is incredibly tempting.

…

…

Her mother sits silently while Lena inspects the device. The scotch goes back on the shelf and Lena starts tugging at wires. Her mother’s smirk grows and grows and grows and Lena tries very hard to ignore her.

“Daxamites are allergic to lead,” Lillian says. She merely shrugs when Lena asks her _how_ exactly it is that she came across that knowledge.

“Turn on the news or something,” Lena says, after Lillian’s pacing is starting to make her skin itch. “I can’t work with you just _staring_ at me like that.”

Rhea didn’t hover. Rhea gave her pep talks and smiled at Lena like she believed in her.

(Rhea, is perfectly willing to become a mass murderer and is not a barometer that Lena should be working with.)

Lena inspects a wire while CatCo reports that Supergirl and Rhea are basically going to WrestleMania fight to the death for the right to rule Earth in a matter of hours, or something. Lena drops the wire in her hands and gapes at the television while Lillian laughs bitterly and helps herself to some of Lena’s scotch. Part of Lena agrees with her.

Another part—

“We have see what Supergirl thinks,” she says. She has played around with the device enough; she’s confident that she can make it work. “Maybe, this is Plan B or…”

Lillian scoffs. “No, we don’t,” she points at the television with her drink. “You think we should let two invaders decide the fate of our world?”

“No. But I think that Supergirl has done nothing but try to help _protect_ this planet and that we should tell her our plan,” Lena says firmly, and reaches for her phone. “That’s the only way that I’m going to work with you Mother.”

Lillian rolls her eyes. Opens her mouth like she is going to protest, then just… closes it and sighs, chugging the remains of her drink. Lena decides to take that as her agreement, and sends Kara a text.

She still doesn’t have any means of getting in touch with Supergirl herself, and if they don’t all die, or become subjugated in the next few days, Lena is going to have to do something about that.

…

…

Supergirl and Superman land on her balcony not even four minutes later, and Lena walks out to meet them, her mother behind, snarking, “Of course you two would make an entrance.”

Lena sighs. “Unfortunately this is her on her best behavior.”

“So what did you want?” Supergirl asks, a bit harshly. Lena tries not to take her personally, and decides to assume that it’s meant for her mother. Honestly, she understands the sentiment.

“My daughter has a way to save us,” Lillian says haughtily.

Supergirl turns to Lena, looking a bit skeptical, and she leads them back into her office. “It’s a device my brother invented,” Lena admits. “It was meant to keep humans safe while he radiated the atmosphere with kryptonite. It would have made the planet uninhabitable for both of you.”

“Well, lucky my cousin put him in jail before he could make it work.”

Superman looks, if anything, slightly remorseful as she says this; he glances down at the floor, silently backing his cousin up as Lillian hovers, hands tucked into her pockets as she presses herself into their personal space in a challenge. “And lucky that _I_ found it,” she snaps back.

Lena choses to ignore _all_ of this. Were she even to start unpacking her feelings right now, it would take several weeks of therapy. Quite literally, they are on a timeline.

“I’ve been studying it, and I think that I can convert it to radiate the atmosphere with lead rather than kryptonite.”

“Just a trace amount, harmless to humans,” Lillian adds. Which, is _mostly_ true. There will be some aftereffects. There is no way that there cannot be, but from all of Lena’s calculations so far, the effects would be minimal. Worth it—hopefully. “But the atmosphere would become toxic to Daxamites. The aliens would be forced to leave, or stay and die.”

“All of them?” Superman asks.

Lena nods, watching Supergirl’s face. “And they could never return. Even Rhea’s son.”

“Mon-El would have to leave Earth,” she breathes, sounding pained at the idea.

“Did you know he was dating Kara Danvers?” Lena asks, a bit harshly. Because there cannot possibly be any way that she _didn’t._ Supergirl knows Kara better than she knows Lena. Supergirl is Kara’s _friend,_ and if she knew that Kara’s boyfriend was an alien prince in line to inherit a barbaric, slave owning planet, then she better have said something.

Supergirl’s eyes widen, and oddly, she looks over at Lillian, but says nothing in response other than, “Start working,” before she meets Lena’s eye again, then turns to leave. Superman giving them both one last look before following.

Lillian snorts, pulling one hand out of her pocket and resting it on Lena’s shoulder awkwardly. _You are a marvel, Lena. Maybe I backed the wrong child._ Lena shrugs her off and moves to get to work.

…

…

Lena hears footsteps and then someone knocks on the doorframe. “Hi! We met under a table a few months ago!” he smiles and gives her a weird little wave. “Winn,” he points to his chest. “I don’t know if you remember me but—”

“You’re Kara’s best friend,” Lena says, nodding. “I remember.”

“Right! And you’re the other best friend!” he looks warily over at Lillian. “Well, um. I don’t work at CatCo anymore. I’m sort of a technical analyst for um… well, actually,” he digs around in his bag, and Lena is only half listening as she works on Lex’s device. “You’ve sort of got to sign this NDA, actually.”

“Excuse me?” Lena sets down the screwdriver that was in her hand and stares at him.

“Please?” he grins. “I’ll get yelled at otherwise.”

“For the love of god,” Lillian rolls her eyes. “He works at the DEO.”

“The secret alien hunting branch of the government that no one is supposed to know about?” Lena asks, raising an eyebrow and turning back to the device.

“Yep,” Winn steps closer. “That won’t give it a big enough blast range.”

“I know,” Lena snaps.

Winn smiles at her and drops his voice to a whisper. “Will you sign it anyway though? Like, if we don’t die? Or even now maybe, just in case?”

Lena rolls her eyes, grabs a pen and scribbles her signature onto the page as her mother protests. Winn, absurdly, hugs her. “Thank you.” He pulls away quickly and tugs the bag off his shoulders, dropping it to the ground and clapping his hands together. “So, I’m here to help get this thing working! What do you want me to do?”

“Hand me that,” Lena says, delighting in the way that her mother’s eyes narrow as he easily shifts by Lena’s side and puts on a pair of safety goggles.

“So,” Winn whispers. “We’ve actually got some things in common, beyond science and being Kara’s best friends.”

“Like what?” Lena bites at her lower lip, yanking her fingers back as there is a small spark between two wires.

“Well… not sure if you’ve ever heard of the Toyman?”

“That guy who killed people with toys a decade ago?” Lena frowns.

“Dear old dad,” Winn sighs, and slaps a different screwdriver into her hands before she asks for it.

Lena turns up and looks at him, and he gives her a smile. It’s familiar. It’s too goofy and silly for it to be anything that Lena would reach for, but somehow that’s the difference between them. He goes for goofy humor, Lena goes for controlled and self-depreciating black humor. The effect is the same either way—they’re both covering up the same pain.

The whole building shakes before Lena can say anything in response.

“Oh, shit,” Winn looks out the window. “So, Rhea cheated. Awesome.”

Daxamites beam down and start fighting humans below, and explosions ring out and shake the ground all around them. Lena and Winn share a look before jumping back to work with renewed and urgent fervor, and Lillian just paces the room calmly, hands in her pockets.

“Can I have the — the,” Lena motions with her fingers, and Winn just slaps the right part into her hands. “Yeah,” she grins. “Thank you.”

“You know, I’m pretty good in a crisis,” he brags. Another explosion blasts closer to him and he whirls around in a panic. “OH GOD!”

Lena plants her feet as the building shakes, and holds the cylinder in her hand steady as she coaxes it into place, her mother circling them both.

“We can see that,” Lillian says sarcastically.

“I don’t like you!” Winn announces.

Lena pulls her hands away. “It’s done.”

Her mother immediately descends. “Turn it on and we can end this,” she orders.

“No hey,” Winn holds his arm out in front of the device. “No you can do that.”

Lillian shoves him out of the way and he stumbles. “Stop!” Lena yells, reaching for Winn as her mother grabs the device and hits the detonator. Lena helps Winn back upright as nothing happens.

“I thought you said it works,” Lillian says, turning back accusingly to Lena.

Lena smirks, placing a hand on her hip. “Oh, it does. I just gave Supergirl the remote. Only she can turn it on,” she says. Winn tugs off his glasses, smiling proudly at Lena while Lillian frowns and sets the device back down onto the table. “We should call the DEO,” Lena says, dismissing her mother and turning to Winn. “Let Supergirl know that it’s ready if she needs it.”

Winn reaches up and gives her a very gentle punch on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team Luthor!” he grins. Pulling out his phone and dialing, he holds it up to his ear and turns to Lillian. _‘Not welcome to the team, other Luthor’_ , he mouths.

Lena blinks at Winn, not entirely sure what to make of him. Lillian just rolls her eyes.

“And now, I guess we wait?” Winn shrugs, hanging up and staring down at the city. Lena’s gaze follows his, frowning at the sight of growing destruction beneath them. “So,” Winn says a minute later. “How much therapy do _you_ have to go to? Because _I_ go to a lot.”

Lena is surprised by his candidness, but something about it is refreshing. She looks over at Lillian as she says, “Quite a bit. Since I was five.”

“Moms,” he says, “amirite?”

Lena frowns at him, quickly pulling her face into a neutral expression once she realizes that it matches her mother’s exactly. “I’m sorry?” Lillian asks him haughtily.

“Oh, well my mom ran off after my dad was arrested. So I was going _amirite_ about mine mostly,” he babbles. “But also, I’m not really a big fan of you either.”

“You’ve said,” Lillian glares, moving closer and towering over him.

Winn giggles uncomfortably, but presses on. “Like with the whole, ‘all aliens should be murdered thing,’ not super into that. Also, you sort of kidnapped my best friend’s dad.”

“ _What?_ ” Lena snaps, looking between them. “Mom, what is he—”

Another explosion rings out, and then the device on the table whirls to live. “Finally,” Lillian mutters, and Lena moves to cover her mouth and eyes as it releases the lead. When she looks down and out the window again, the effects are immediate. Daxamites are beaming themselves back up to their ships, and the ships are departing. Rapidly.

“Damn,” Winn mutters. “Poor Mon-El.”

Lena feels sick with dread at the thought of Kara’s grief. Selfishly, she thinks about Jack, too. God, this is not something that she wanted to have in common with Kara.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, starting to reach out to him but thinking better of it halfway through. Her arm ends up hanging awkwardly in the air between them, and Lillian narrows her eyes. “Was he your friend?”

“Yeah,” Winn lets out a heavy sigh, then reaches down and slings his bag back over his shoulder. He gives her a smile; genuine, but pained. “Glad to have made a new one though,” he claps her on the shoulder. “Stay classy Luthor, see ya at the next end of the world. Or, you know before that!” he walks out of the office backwards. “Coffee? Other beverages? Game night at Kara’s? etc.” he shoots finger guns at her and Lena cannot help but laugh.

“Sure,” she agrees, because he seems like a good person to have around. Also, because her mother cannot stop frowning at him. “Sounds good.”

Winn holds up a hand, then leaves.

“That man is an idiot,” Lillian snaps.

“I like him,” Lena says, crossing her arms and turning to her mother. Lillian rolls her eyes. Lena scans the office, and doesn’t even want to think about how much renovations will have to go into the building—god, the whole city. She has only slept for two hours in the last day and a half, and she hasn’t eaten a thing.

The fucking dress is still on her floor.

“Your taste is suspect dear,” Lillian says, but for once, there isn’t any bite to it. “You also need to rest,” she adds. “Go home and get some sleep. All of this will still be here in the morning.”

“Will you?” Lena asks. A long silence passes between them, and Lena’s cheeks burn as she snaps her mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“Lena…”

“No, it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Lena grabs her purse, and leaves the dress on the floor, walking out of her office. It takes forever to get to her apartment. She stops to help three people get medical attention, to help a little girl find her mother—and the irony in that is beyond annoying—and to help a group of people lift a huge tree branch off a man’s leg. By the time that she walks into her apartment, she’s dirty, starving, and exhausted.

She pulls her shirt up over her head, grabs a banana, and walks into her bedroom. Kicking her pants off, she shovels the fruit into her mouth before collapsing on top of her bed and pulling the covers over her head.

She’s asleep within minutes, and she’s never been more grateful for it.

…

…

Lena wakes the next morning at nine-forty-five a.m. which is later than she’s slept in _years._ She rolls over in bed, her head pounding furiously at her as she blindly reaches for her phone. There are a million things that she needs to do, but instead of tackling any of them, she taps on the thread of messages between herself and Kara. She doesn’t know what to say; there isn’t really anything that she _can_ say, but Lena can still feel Kara’s arms around her, their temples pressed together as Kara promised to just _be there._ To be her friend. To stay.

She types out six different messages before finally hitting send with a sigh and moving to crawl her way out of the bed and into the shower.

**[10:06a.m.]** _Let me know what you need._

The water starts to make her feel a little more human. She rolls her shoulders as she wets her hair, frowning at the bits of dirt that stuck to her arms as she works the shampoo into her scalp. Rhea is dead, then. She’s not actually surprised, that a small part of her is sad about that. _You are a marvel, Lena._ God, she hopes that fucking dress isn’t still on her floor. _Maybe I backed the wrong child. What you did with the portal was brilliant._ Lena works conditioner through the strands of her hair and swallows thickly. It’s doubtful that anything will change. It would be stupid of her to hope otherwise.

She rinses out the conditioner, scrubs herself with body wash and turns the water off. By the time that she’s walked back into her bedroom in search of clothes, her phone dings with a new message.

Four, actually.

**[Kara 10:12a.m.]** _I will, thanks:)_

**[Kara 10:13a.m.]** _Are you okay? Do you need anything?_

**[Winslow Schott Jr. 10:17a.m.]** _I know ur probably crazy busy with like, fixing ur building and stuff, but I was serious abt being buddies! Coffee or smth this weekend?_

**[Mom 10:24a.m.]** _What you did with your brother’s device was brilliant. I wasn’t lying. I do want to be better._

Lena quirks an eyebrow, forgoes answering any of them for turning on the news and getting dressed. And, of course, the first thing that she hears is: _Lillian Luthor, the head of the anti-alien organization, Cadmus, claims responsibility for ridding National City of Daxamite invaders. Returning peace to Earth._ She pauses, halfway through tugging on her pants and has to sit down onto the bed she laughs so hard.

When she calms down enough to pull her pants on, she rolls her eyes and walks out into the kitchen, texting Winn back with something that’s positive but will be easy enough to break if she has to, and tells Kara that she is fine.

She does not respond to her mother, Apparent Savior of Earth.

Kara, texts back immediately and calls bullshit. Which, Lena should have expected, at this point. All things considered, she _is_ fine. Physically, she’s unharmed. Still a little achy, still could use a few more hours of sleep, and she definitely needs some food, but she’s alright. She’s not married off to an alien. There is no hair baby, somewhere out there in existence. And considering the lead that’s out in the atmosphere now, there _can’t_ be. Lena plucks the last banana from a bowl, grabs her purse and very actively _does not think about that any further_ as she walks out of her apartment.

She directs her driver to Kara’s apartment, not L-Corp, but she makes four phone calls along the way, instructing contractors and investors, and making sure that they have an estimation of the damage by the end of the afternoon.

When Kara opens her door, she sags at the sight of Lena and tries to smile, but there is a sort of traumatized half-dead thing to the look on her face. Without thinking, Lena steps forward and wraps her arms around Kara. “I’m so sorry about Mon-El,” she whispers. Kara stiffens in her arms. “Or, Mike. I’m not—” she pulls back a bit so that she can see Kara’s face. “I’m not actually sure what you know.”

“I know he was Mon-El,” Kara says carefully.

“Did Supergirl tell you?”

“Um…” Kara steps back and motions for Lena to come inside. She reaches towards her neck, and her hand freezes when the necklace she usually fidgets with isn’t there. She looks panicked, for just a second, then the flash of hurt is back and Lena can’t stand it. She reaches out and clasps Kara’s hand. Kara smiles up at her weakly. “He… sort of told me. But yeah, um, Supergirl did too. About… I mean the lead and everything.”

“I’m so sorry Kara. I know it’s not the same, Jack and I had broken up, and were sort of… undefined when he died, but if you need to talk to someone who gets it—”

“Oh,” Kara blinks. “He’s not…” she swallows, wrapping her arms around herself. “Yeah, thanks Lena.” They’re silent for a moment, then Kara’s eyes widen and she looks back up at Lena in a panic. “Are _you_ okay? I’m—Supergirl told me, about… Mon-El’s mom kidnapping you. Also,” she smiles and hip checks Lena. “About you basically saving the world.”

“I’m so sorry Kara,” Lena croaks.

“What, why?”

“I made the device work. I’m… he’s dead because of me.”

Kara’s eyes go wider than seems humanly possible and she grasps Lena’s forearms. “No. That’s not… don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault,” she insists, firmly. “I never thought that for a second Lena. This was Rhea. This was the Daxamites. You saved everyone.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Didn’t you see the news? Lillian Luthor saved everyone.”

Kara scoffs and moves to get them both coffee. “Everyone knows _that’s_ not true,” she jokes. “Ms. Grant sent out a companywide memo with the subject line: _Fake News. Lena is the good egg in that Family. Anyone promoting false information is fired._ ”

Lena bursts out with laughter, covering her mouth in horror when Kara turns, surprised at the sound. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.”

Kara laughs lightly too, pushing a coffee mug into her hands and nodding towards the couch. Lena follows, mortified. She sits on the footstool in front of the couch, cupping the mug in her hands and looking somewhere off Kara’s left shoulder. It’s an odd sort of arrangement, but it feels as if she can’t be next to Kara right now, like she’s supposed to leave the space for Mon-El’s ghost. The thought is morbid. She shuts it down and sips her coffee as Kara sort of frowns at her. Lena wants to apologize for almost marrying her dead alien boyfriend, but has no idea how to push that sentence out of her mouth, and the look on Kara’s face is knowing, and kind. It’s the opposite of what is supposed to be happening right now; Lena came over here to comfort _Kara,_ not to be comforted by her.

“I’m glad that you’re here,” Kara whispers.

“Of course.”

Kara sort of picks at the handle of her mug, not looking Lena in the eye as she asks, “Do you have to go to work soon?” the plea, and the resignation are both obvious in her tone, a sign that she is not okay.

“No,” Lena decides. “Natural disasters call for a day off. I’m all yours.”

Kara’s face lights up temporarily. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You stayed with me,” Lena reminds her. “After Jack. If I remember correctly, you said that you’d always be there for me. I’m returning the favor. Happily,” she adds, at the slight frown that pulls onto Kara’s face.

“Do you want to watch _Parks and Recreation_?” she finally asks. “It is my go-to happy show.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Lena admits, and takes great delight in the horrified gasp that Kara releases.

“We’re watching all of season one at _least,_ ” she decides, reaching out and tugging Lena off the stool and onto the couch, practically half onto Kara’s lap. “It’s short. They got picked up for regular length seasons after that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lena hums. Kara grabs the remote and plays around with the Netflix controls before leaning back and resting her head on Lena’s shoulder. Her skin warms Lena up where they’re touching, and neither of them move away from each other’s arms much at all, through the entire first season of this ridiculously funny show.

Kara is half asleep by the time that the buzzing of Lena’s phone cannot be ignored any longer. Luckily, Alex shows up just as Lena is reluctantly tugging herself away from Kara and apologizing for needing to leave. Kara’s final hug is crushing and firm, and when she pulls away, the smile on her face is weak, but unwavering. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m glad you came.”

“Anytime,” Lena promises, and Kara nods like she knows. Like it’s a given, now.

When Lena finally forces herself to take the plunge and go back up to her office once she’s finalized estimations with contractors in the lobby, she’s surprised.

The dress is gone from its spot on the floor, and there is a note left in its place.

_I am going to try –M_

Lena rolls her shoulders, places the note into her purse, and gets to work. 


End file.
